


Retreat

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s02e01 Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in a time loop after Jack's return and John's departure, the team spends the night hiding from themselves in a posh hotel. Jack and Ianto must deal with the aftermath of multiple betrayals and loss if they are to move forward, but will another threat from Jack's past derail their relationship before they even have a chance to figure out what they want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Ianto!"

Ianto stopped, took a deep breath, and turned around. He wasn't ready to see Jack, let alone talk to him. He was glad Jack was back, yes, but at the same time so much had happened while Jack had been gone, not to mention in the few hours since he'd returned, that Ianto needed time to think. Alone. To work this new development into the life he'd led for the last four months.

"Yes?" he asked. Jack slowed down, hands in his pockets, that same nervous reticence from the office block coloring his face and actions.

"Did you…" He trailed off and cleared his throat. "Did you have any plans for the rest of the night?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I'm trying to avoid my past self by hiding out in a luxury hotel. I'm not sure whether to catch up on sleep or take every advantage I can."

"The girls are taking advantage," Jack pointed out. "Massage, manicure, the works. If you were interested."

Ianto toed at the ground. "Not really my style."

"Right." Jack glanced up, met his eyes, and looked away. This strange lack of confidence was almost unnerving. Ianto wondered why Jack was like this, what had caused it. Did it have to do with Jack's absence? Had something happened to him? Or was it just a ploy to get Ianto back into bed as soon as possible, a manipulation to gain his sympathy and forgiveness for leaving them without so much as a word?

"Did you want to get a drink? Maybe something to eat?" Jack asked.

Ianto wanted to, he really did, but he couldn't. His head wasn't clear enough. He needed time alone first, and then maybe he could withstand whatever Jack threw at him. Because he needed that strength. Jack had asked him on a date, and Ianto had said yes, but it had been an instinctive response. Saying no would have shut the door on any future between them, and Ianto knew one thing: he wasn't ready to shut that door. Not personally and not professionally. He needed to hear Jack out and decide what he wanted once he knew what was really going on, what Jack was offering when he'd asked Ianto out on an actual date.

"I'm not that hungry," Ianto lied. Jack's face fell. Ianto wanted to change his mind, just to see Jack's broad smile, but he still needed time. They waited in awkward silence for a moment or two, until Jack stood straighter and held his eyes.

"I was serious about what I said earlier, about dinner and a movie," he said. "Or whatever you like to do on a date—a game, the opera, a bay cruise—"

"Jack." Ianto stopped him, but Jack kept going.

"I know you have questions," he said quietly, taking a tentative step forward. "You have every right to ask them, and I will try my best to answer. You also have every reason to start shouting at me right now, maybe even throw another right hook." He grinned, but Ianto was mortified and shook his head.

"Or not," Jack said quickly before Ianto could get a word in edgewise. "Which is a good thing for me, I suppose. But can we…can we at least talk? Soon?"

Ianto sighed. They'd never been much for talking, certainly not about themselves, but Ianto didn't think he'd be able to move on without some answers. He didn't kid himself that Jack would tell him everything, because that was Jack, keeping his secrets close. Ianto suspected there was a lot more to Jack than any of them knew, and that he kept his secrets for good reason. He couldn't die, after all; that was probably enough right there to shut people out. Yet Ianto needed something to hold onto, some truth about Jack to believe in after so much had changed.

"Yes," he said. "I suppose we should. There's a lot for you to catch up on from while you were gone."

Jack shook his head. "Not that. I read some of the files while the team was out. You're all alive and still fighting, and that's…that's brilliant. I couldn't ask for more." His gaze turned inward, as if he were remembering something. It must have been painful, because Ianto was fairly certain Jack was getting emotional from the memory, especially when he ran a hand over his face and cleared his throat.

"What are you going to do now then?" he asked. Ianto studied him for a moment before deciding to be honest.

"I was thinking about going to the pool. I saw some swimming shorts in the gift shop, and the pool doesn't close for another hour." He shrugged. "I used to enjoy it, haven't gone since I moved back."

Jack's face lit up. "You in tight wet shorts, nice! Want some com-"

"No," Ianto said sharply, hating the look on Jack's face as his mouth abruptly shut and his shoulders slumped. It was so out of character for the man who had left them, who would have responded with more quips, more banter, more innuendo. He wondered if Jack was disoriented to be back, or if he'd really changed somehow, someway.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, and he was. "I could use some time to myself, though. It's been a long day. Maybe we could talk after?" He cringed, both wanting to see Jack later and wanting to curl up in his expensive hotel room in a fluffy bathrobe and order everything he could possibly eat from room service.

Jack was so genuinely happy, his smile so honest, that it threw Ianto off. What was going on? Jack stepped closer again, but Ianto kept his guard up. "You could come down to my room whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"No," Ianto replied, shaking his head and tempering it with a smile. "That's probably a bad idea."

"Why?" asked Jack, and he actually looked confused. "I'm right down the hall, you can leave whenever you want."

"You wanted to talk, Jack," Ianto pointed out. "I think somewhere other than a lavish hotel room with a king size bed would be more conducive to actually talking for us."

"Oh." If Jack had been the type of man to blush, Ianto could almost picture it happening right then. But he wasn't and he didn't, although he also didn't come back with any innuendo.

"I wasn't even thinking about that," Jack said. "But the bar is open late. Do you still like gin and tonics?"

"Yes," Ianto replied, surprised that Jack knew it was his favorite cocktail, let alone remembered.

"Then let me buy you a drink. Meet you in…" He trailed off, leaving it to Ianto.

"Hour and a half?" Ianto replied. "Gives me time to shower after."

"Great, it's a-" Jack cut himself off with a sheepish grin. "It's a plan. I'll see you then."

"Right." Ianto turned toward the gift shop as Jack headed toward the lift back to his room.

"Ianto?" he called just before Ianto walked away.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for giving me a chance," Jack replied quietly.

Ianto nodded and left. He was glad he had time to think things through before they met again.

Passing through the lobby, Ianto was not surprised to see Owen at the bar. Then again, the man had taken some serious painkillers after being shot, so alcohol was probably not a good idea. Reluctantly, Ianto walked over to check on him. He didn't even have to say anything; apparently the look on his face was enough.

"I know, I know," Owen grumbled. "I shouldn't be drinking, I should be resting, blah blah blah."

"Spoken like a true doctor," Ianto remarked. Owen snorted.

"Sod off," he said. "The girls are getting pampered and I'm not ready to deal with Jack, so the bar it is, just the one." He paused and looked Ianto up and down. "You're not back in bed with him yet, that's good. Care to join me?"

"Actually, I'm going swimming," Ianto replied, and grinned when Owen rolled his eyes. "What? I'm hoping to have the place to myself. There's a whirlpool and sauna and everything. I'd suggest it, but open wounds are not usually encouraged in public swimming facilities, and I prefer the solitude."

"I wouldn't be caught dead in the water with you," Owen replied. "Enjoy your swim, fishboy."

"You could always get your nails done," Ianto tossed over his shoulder as he left. "I bet Gwen could pick you a great shade of puce."

Owen gave him a two-fingered salute, and Ianto left him to it. He pulled out his phone to text Jack, until he realized he didn't even know if Jack had a phone, or whether it would work during a time loop. He'd catch Jack before coming downstairs, and suggest they have a drink at the restaurant instead of the bar to avoid any entanglements with the others.

After purchasing the only swimming shorts in his size, Ianto made his way toward the spa and the pool. He changed in the small locker room and slipped into the cool water with a shiver. He'd always loved the water, and though it had been ages since he'd been swimming, he could feel the tension floating away immediately as the water surrounded him. He had the place to himself and took advantage of it, swimming a few quick laps before floating a bit, then trying a few more before moving to the whirlpool. The hot water relaxed him so much he almost fell asleep, and a part of him regretted agreeing to meet Jack as the thought of retiring to the large, soft bed in his room upstairs was far more appealing than awkward conversation with his boss and former lover.

He decided to skip the sauna, instead jumping back into the cold water to wake himself up. Grabbing a towel, he headed upstairs, his suit tucked away in the shopping bag, the towel draped around his shoulders. Idly wondering what the others were up to, Ianto was not surprised when Jack poked his head out of his door as if he'd been waiting and grinned.

"Nice view!" he called down the hallway. Ianto rolled his eyes, trying not to smile.

"I'm soaking wet, Jack," he said. "I'll be out in twenty minutes." Before Jack could reply, he opened his door, then remembered they'd agreed to meet at the bar. "Owen is at the bar, so you might want to get a table at the restaurant if you'd prefer some privacy. Nice view, and I could do with something to eat now."

Jack nodded. "I'll head there in a few minutes. I'm glad you suggested it, I'm starving."

"Right. See you there." Ianto headed into his room with a sigh. His time at the spa had been good, as he'd put all thoughts of Jack out of his mind and simply enjoyed the water. Now it all came rushing back. He was not only meeting Jack for a drink, but now he was having dinner with him. It certainly sounded like a date, though Ianto told himself it was nothing more than two coworkers stuck in a time loop and nothing more.

Which reminded him of John Hart, and all of a sudden every doubt Ianto had about the situation came rushing back. John Hart, former coworker, past lover, stuck in a time loop with Jack. Sounded familiar, and it made Ianto even more determined to avoid any physical entanglements with Jack that night. That night would be for talking. Ianto needed to know where things stood between them before anything else happened.

He showered quickly and pulled on his clothes, wishing he had a clean change of pants at the very least. He left off the jacket and tie and styled his hair as best as he could, then sat for a moment on the bed, trying not to fidget nervously. A quick glance at the minibar revealed a small bottle of wine. Pouring himself a generous glass, Ianto went to the balcony and stepped outside, sipping the dark red and hoping it might calm his racing heart.

It was strange having so little idea what would happen when he went downstairs to meet Jack. Before Jack had left, he and Ianto had shared a meal many times, even going out once or twice on their own after the others had left. But it had never felt like anything more. Like a date. This did. Jack had asked him on a date back at the office block, and this was probably it. Ianto had no idea what to expect.

Even worse was not knowing what he _wanted_ to happen when he went downstairs. He'd accepted Jack's invitation, but did he want a real date, now that Jack was back? Though he'd dated some after Jack had disappeared, it had been hard. Torchwood didn't lend itself to a normal dating life. He'd met some nice people, but had not felt the same strong attraction he felt with Jack with any of them. But he'd felt it as soon as Jack had returned, that pull toward the man that had been so hard to resist. He'd missed that feeling.

He had only given in to that attraction so many months before because why not? They'd both been both hard and lonely, and they got on well with the banter and flirting. The chemistry had been there from the start, so when they'd finally tumbled into bed, it had felt far less awkward than Ianto could have ever anticipated given their history. Sex with Jack had been brilliant, but they'd kept it casual, even on nights when they'd had dinner or shared a nightcap in Jack's office. What kept throwing Ianto now was the apparently sincere intent behind Jack's offer of a date. It implied more than casual in Ianto's mind. But why now? Why him?

He finished his glass of wine, took one more look in the mirror (like a damned nervous school boy, which he most certainly was _not)_ , and then headed downstairs to meet Jack. A part of him almost wished he'd run into Tosh and Gwen so he could drag them along as a buffer, but then the thought of Jack and Gwen getting into it…whatever _it_ was between them…soured him enough to take a deep breath and calm his nerves. Jack wanted to see him, not the others. Him.

He stepped into the restaurant, glanced around, and walked slowly toward his first official date with Jack Harkness.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short story, detailing the night the team spent hiding out from themselves after Jack's return. Possibly not what you're expecting, unless you're expecting a lot of dialogue. And maybe a small twist or two. Don't hate me for Ianto's reticence, I'm exploring some ideas here I've always wanted to take a crack at. The swimming idea came to me at the pool, go figure. Apparently I daydream about Ianto Jones in a swimsuit as much as Jack. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Jack waved him over almost immediately, and Ianto couldn't help but smile. Jack looked nervous, but happy, and of course as good as ever. He had cleaned up after their busy night, though he was also still wearing the same outfit. Hell of a first date, dressed in dirty clothes as they tried to avoid their past selves. Jack had left his coat behind, but as much as Ianto loved the coat, it was more a part of Jack's leader persona, and Ianto preferred to have a drink with Jack the man, not the hero.

To his surprise, Jack stood as Ianto neared the table. Ianto raised an eyebrow as Jack even made to pull out a chair, but he waved the other man away and sat down on his own, shaking his head.

"What?" asked Jack, waving toward the bar. "I'm trying to do this right."

"We've having a drink, Jack," said Ianto, and a gin and tonic appeared miraculously by his elbow. "I can sit down on my own."

"I know," said Jack, sipping at his own drink. A sidecar, if Ianto remembered correctly. "That doesn't mean I can't try to be chivalrous."

"Yes, well," said Ianto, playing with a napkin. "Don't try too hard. That usually backfires."

"Speaking from experience?" Jack asked with a smile.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Ianto laughed. "And with your vast amount experience, you know I'm right."

"Oh, I know," said Jack, nodding vigorously. "You're absolutely right. It's just that…I guess I'm not sure where we stand right now. So if I try too hard, that's why."

"Pulling out my chair won't earn you extra points," Ianto replied, earning a sheepish grin from Jack. "And that's sort of why we're here, isn't it? To see where things are at."

Jack reached across the table and touched his hand. "To see where _we're_ at. I meant what I said—"

"And you keep saying that, as if to convince yourself," Ianto pointed out. Jack sat back, shaking his head.

"No, I'm trying to convince you. You don't believe me."

Ianto sighed. He was spared from answering when a plate of bread, cheese, and meats arrived with a dish of olives. He raised an eyebrow at Jack.

"I'm hungry," Jack said, and helped himself to the food. "It was a long year," he murmured through a mouthful, his eyes once again going distant, just as they had earlier.

Ianto stared at him, but when Jack didn't elaborate, he decided to not freak out about the casual slip. "Is that a proverbial year or a literal calendar year?" he asked lightly, taking a slice of bread and smearing it with cheese.

Jack glanced up sharply and swallowed, then finished half his drink in one long sip. "Right to the punch, then?" he asked. Ianto shrugged.

"You're the one who slipped."

Jack shook his head ruefully. "Damn. I thought maybe we could enjoy a bit of lighter conversation first." Ianto was quiet, and Jack continued. "It was just over a year for me, even though it was only a few months for you."

"Time travel?" asked Ianto. "You were with the Doctor, so I assume time travel was involved."

"In the worst way," Jack said. "I wanted to come back sooner, but I couldn't. At first it was because I…I…" He glanced away, as if he couldn't look at Ianto when he spoke. "I was held prisoner. With the Doctor and several others. And when it was over, I wanted to come back to when I'd left, but it wasn't possible. This is when he dropped me off. Timelines and all that."

"You were held prisoner for an entire year?" Ianto repeated. His heart was hammering in his chest. Jack had wanted to come back to them, but hadn't been able to return. He'd been a prisoner. Ianto couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have been like, but he knew now why Jack had come back to them different, almost vulnerable. It was inevitable that something like that would change a man, and many things about Jack's return made more sense.

Jack only nodded, still eating. He really did look hungry.

"And you didn't eat much?" Ianto asked, keeping his tone steady as he took some olives. Jack nodded and filled his plate a second time.

"Not like this." He stopped suddenly and glanced up, looking abashed. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hog it all."

Ianto laughed and motioned at Jack to continue. "It's all right. I'm fine. Please, eat."

Jack nodded reluctantly. "There's more to it than that, but it's your turn. What have you been up to? I'm hoping it's much better than my own misadventures."

"Oh." Ianto took a moment to pick up some more bread, this time piling it with meat. "Well. It's been…busy. Interesting."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

Ianto started telling him about the team, about trying to find their balance, about the cases they botched, the cases they solved, the people and aliens they saved and lost. Jack looked interested at first, until he frowned, pushed away his plate, and finally interrupted Ianto in the middle of the case where Tosh had injured her arm.

"Ianto, stop," he said. He finished his drink and motioned for another, signaling one for Ianto as well. "I can read all that in the reports. What about you? What have _you_ been doing these last four months?"

"That _is_ what I've been doing, Jack," Ianto replied dryly. "Work. And more work. We were a man down and it was hard. We had good days and maybe even saved the world a few times, but most days we barely muddled through. There wasn't a lot of time for fun and games."

"But what about you?" Jack persisted. "How are you? And don't say all the better for having me back."

"I'm fine," Ianto said quietly. He pushed his plate away and took a sip of water. "I'm…well, I'm still here. That's something. It took some adjusting to you being gone, but for the most part, I've adapted. We all have. We had to make a new normal, both personally and professionally."

Their drinks arrived and Ianto took a long sip to keep his courage going. "Owen's a bit less of a prat and did a good job taking charge in the field. Tosh struggled a bit, but has really found her inner strength. And Gwen." Ianto shook his head. "Gwen had the hardest time, I think. She was angry, upset, tried to take over a few times in her usual bullheaded way."

"And you?" Jack pressed, surprisingly glossing over what Ianto had said about Gwen.

"Why do you keep asking?" Ianto huffed. "What do you want me to say?"

"How's your mother?" Jack asked, and Ianto glanced up in surprise.

"She's doing well, thank you. She was quite ill back in March, it was hard." He swallowed the fear he'd felt, that he'd lose her so soon after losing Lisa and then Jack. "But she pulled through."

"Are you seeing anyone?" Jack asked.

"What?" Ianto exclaimed. "No, of course not! When would I have time for a normal life like that?"

Jack's face was unreadable. "Gwen does."

"Gwen came in with one, one that you told her to hold on to. So we kept telling her to hold onto it."

"You deserve that too," Jack said softly. Ianto shrugged.

"I lost anything resembling a normal life over a year ago," he said. "I catch aliens. I have a pet dinosaur. I work with an immortal time traveler. There is nothing normal about my life anymore."

He filled the silence with more food and drink. "Just work?" Jack finally asked. "That immortal time traveler? He's only a coworker?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Actually, he's my boss."

The conversation, already veering into strange territory, took an even stranger twist as Jack started talking about himself in third person. "I heard your boss left suddenly, without a word. Are you angry with him?"

Ianto decided to play along, sensing that Jack was nervous and unsure how to approach the question, and in a way, this was easier for them both. "I was, yes. We all were. He left us without a word, without a note. We didn't know where he'd gone or when he'd be back, _if_ he'd be back. And there was so much we didn't know about Torchwood, so much he didn't tell us. We tried our best, though."

The waiter came over then to see if they wanted to order a main dish, and Jack nodded before looking to Ianto. He decided he could do with a light meal and ordered a chicken salad. Jack ordered steak with prawns.

"Careful you don't make yourself sick," Ianto murmured. Jack grinned.

"Don't care. I'm hungry. So your boss left?"

Ianto nodded. "We saw what happened on the CCTV, of course. He ran after a blue police box and disappeared. Gwen said he'd been looking for the right kind of doctor. It wasn't hard to figure out, given Torchwood's history with _the_ Doctor, but we still didn't know why he left like that. We didn't know if he was all right, if he was even alive."

There was a moment of silence before they both began speaking at the same time. "You go first," Jack said.

"So this Doctor?" Ianto asked, continuing the game they were playing. "Do you know him too?"

Jack nodded. "Yes."

"He was at Canary Wharf," Ianto replied. "It's said he stopped the Cybermen and the Daleks."

"He did," said Jack. "That's what he does."

"Stops trans-dimensional aliens from achieving world domination?" Ianto offered dryly.

"He saves people," Jack answered simply.

Ianto studied Jack, hoping he wasn't about to ruin their evening with his next question. "Did he save you?" he asked softly. Jack let his head fall.

"No," he whispered. "He couldn't. That's why I left, to find out what happened to me, to see why I can't…you know…and to see if he could help me. But he said I'm wrong, an impossible thing that was never to supposed to be. He couldn't fix me."

"Maybe there was nothing to fix," Ianto offered. Jack glanced up.

"I don't think my condition is quite normal," he pointed out. Ianto agreed.

"It's definitely unique, but that doesn't make it wrong. You can do something no one else can."

"I _can't_ do something everyone else can," Jack pointed out. "Ever."

Once again Ianto took a leap. "Did you die while you were gone?"

"Too many times to count," Jack whispered, the pain evident in his voice.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, reaching out and clasping Jack's hand. He was rewarded with a tight squeeze and a look of grateful relief. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been."

"It definitely wasn't a deep space holiday," Jack laughed nervously, taking a deep breath. Before Ianto could say anything more, their food arrived. They tucked into it and ate silently for several moments. Ianto asked another question he suspected he'd regret, but he had to know where things truly stood with Jack.

"Is that why you came back?" he asked, deliberately pitching his voice as casual, curious. "Because he couldn't help you?"

Jack set down his fork and wiped his mouth. "No," he said, and took a sip of water. "I came back for you."

"For all of us," Ianto offered, repeating Jack's words from the Hub. He refused to believe Jack had come back to Earth for him alone. It didn't make any sense, not with how they'd left things before Jack had run off.

"For Torchwood, yes. For Tosh and Owen and Gwen, but more than any of them, for you. Ianto." He waited until Ianto glanced up from his plate and met his eyes. "I thought about you a lot while I was gone. I wanted to see you again. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Ianto sighed and took a moment before answering. He didn't want to upset Jack, not when Jack had been through so much over the past year. But he still had his doubts, and he couldn't risk his own heart just to protect someone else's.

"Because it wasn't like that before," he said. "You wanting to see me. Dinner and a movie. In fact, things between us were…rather unsettled when you left."

"It happened, it's over," Jack said. "I've moved on."

"It was over a year for you," Ianto pointed out. "But it wasn't for me, Jack. It's only been a few months for me, and I didn't even have a chance to understand any of it—the captain, the Rift, your immortality—before you ran off!"

And there was the anger he had been trying so hard to keep in check. He finished his drink and ordered another. Jack was silent for a long time, and when he spoke, it was entirely unexpected.

"I'm sorry I ran off," he started, then stopped Ianto when he tried to protest. "No, let me finish. I abandoned you, all of you. Like you said, I left the planet without a word, even a note. I didn't contact you, and I showed up four months later as if nothing had happened, expecting things to go right back to the way they were."

"I understand," Ianto said. "You were looking for answers. You were held prisoner and couldn't come back."

"I know you understand, now," Jack said with a smile. "But you've also being thinking about it for four months in a very different way than I have. You probably should be angry at me, I would be. And I don't expect you to forgive me immediately."

"I already have," Ianto replied immediately. "Believe me, Jack, I understand the concept of doing what you have to do. I've done it myself. What's hard for me is trying to understand what's different now that you're back. _You're_ different."

"So are you," said Jack.

"And so is this," Ianto replied, gesturing between them.

"I'd like it to be a good thing," Jack said after a moment. "If you do, that is."

Ianto sighed. This was it. What did he want?

"I don't know," he said helplessly. "This… _this…_ never occurred to me. Or rather," he corrected when Jack looked both surprised and disappointed, "if I thought about it in the past, it was easy to set aside. We both knew what we were doing and why we were doing it, and _this_ wasn't part of that."

Jack was silent, obviously thinking Ianto had more to say, only he didn't, so he had to stumble along some more, dredging up old resentments he'd tried to move past, feelings brought back to the surface now that Jack had returned and seemed determined to resolve things between them and move forward.

"But then you and Tosh got stuck in 1941, and what happened then…what Owen said, what Tosh said…it _hurt_ , Jack. I was angry, and I hated being angry about something that shouldn't have bothered me because it wasn't like that for us. But it hurt and I didn't understand _why._ "

"Because I'm an idiot," said Jack, his voice heartbreakingly sad. "I have no other excuse. I lost hope and I didn't think, and I am so sorry that I hurt you. I didn't mean to, but…" He trailed off. Ianto waved a hand.

"Exactly. I didn't mean to get hurt either, but I was. I thought it was over for sure. You were so upset and I was so confused—and not just about you, I shot a coworker! And then you died, we opened the Rift, and you died _again."_ Ianto let a short burst of hysterical laughter slip out before taking another drink. "And then you kissed me, right there in front of everyone, like it mattered—"

"It always mattered," Jack interrupted. "Never think it meant nothing to me. It wasn't hearts and flowers and long walks on the beach holding hands, but it meant something. It still does."

"And that's the problem, isn't it?" Ianto said, stabbing at his food in frustration. "You've been gone for a year, held prisoner, desperate to escape and return to the life you knew. But I've been here, alone and on my own for four months, thinking you'd left because we betrayed you, because you wanted to be with your Doctor more than with us. Sometimes I even wondered if you had gone back to 1941. It's going to be hard to let go of that."

"I understand," Jack said, unexpectedly accepting Ianto's answer without question. "What can I do?"

Ianto considered, wondering how much Jack was willing to share. "Why didn't you go back to your own time?" he finally asked. "I seem to recall you mentioning the 51st century once or twice."

Jack grinned. "Good memory."

"I thought you were joking," Ianto replied. "Now I'm starting to think a lot of what you say is actually true."

"It usually is," said Jack. "I'm from the future, from the 51st century and a place called the Boeshane Peninsula. And I have seen and done things you could hardly imagine. So when I talk about it, everyone thinks I'm making it up. Telling stories."

"But true stories." Jack tipped his fork to him.

"So, if you're from the future and you were traveling with the Doctor, why not go back to your own time? Your friends, your family? Your Time Agency?"

Jack laughed bitterly. "Oh, I left the Time Agency long before I ended up here. Set out for myself, which was when I met the Doctor. But going back to my own time doesn't feel right anymore. I've been gone too long."

"But if you can travel in time, you could return to a point not long after you left," Ianto pointed out.

"I could," Jack acknowledged. "If I wanted to. But I don't want to, not anymore. Let me put it another way. I've been _here_ too long to want to go back _there_."

"Here in Cardiff?" Ianto asked. When Jack nodded, Ianto took a deep breath and looked down at his plate. "How long?" he asked, half hoping Jack hadn't heard him.

"Since 1869," said Jack, his voice very matter-of-fact.

Ianto dropped his fork as he glanced up. "Oh my god," he said. "You've been here since…for that…Jack…why?" He had a hundred questions and that was the first that came out.

"I was looking for the Doctor. He uses the Rift to refuel. So I came here, to the Rift, but I sort of crash landed in 1869 and was stuck. I've waited for the right version of the Doctor ever since, a version I'd already met, who would know what happened to me."

"And it took over a hundred years?" Ianto asked, still shocked.

"It was always the wrong Doctor," Jack said, poking at his food sadly. "And sometimes I missed the right one. I only left the country a few times, during the war and such, but otherwise I waited and when he arrived that day on the Plass, I had to go. I'd been waiting for so long."

"Apparently," Ianto murmured. He took a few bites of his food and a sip of his gin and tonic before sitting back. "Did you think about going back to another time, to 1941, instead of coming back here?"

"Not once," Jack replied immediately. "This is my life now, this is what I want."

"I don't know what to say anymore," Ianto said. "You seem so sure."

"Say you'll do this again, give me another chance," Jack said.

"I…" Ianto trailed off, helplessly shrugged his shoulders. "Another chance to do what, Jack? What is it you're really looking for here?"

To his surprise, Jack grinned. "That's more like it. Another date, for one. Another chance to be with you, and I don't just mean in bed. Another chance to get to know you, especially after being gone for so long."

Ianto snorted. "I haven't changed that much, so I don't know what you're expecting."

"But you have!" Jack exclaimed. He shook his head. "I could see it as soon as I got back."

"When I was very obviously NOT shooting the blowfish with a hostage?"

"You were out in the field, doing good work. Just like before I left, only more. I can see it in your eyes, your face, your entire body. Confidence. It's amazing."

"It's an act." Ianto laughed through his nose. "I'm just trying to hold on and not drown most days."

"I don't believe that for a minute," said Jack. "You're beautiful, Ianto. You've come into your own and I…I…" He shrugged, the look on his face once again making Ianto think of Jack blushing. "I like it."

"You like it," Ianto repeated, still skeptical. Jack nodded with a silly grin, and Ianto rolled his eyes. "You're mad, that's what happened. You left for a year and lost it."

"I lost everything that year," said Jack. "But you're back. I'm back. We can do this. I _want_ to do this."

Ianto frowned at something Jack had said. _You're back._ What did that mean? Where had Ianto gone? What had else happened during that year, to Jack? To Ianto? Did Jack know something about the future now? Something that was motivating this strange new behavior? Ianto felt the stirrings of doubt return in full force, when he'd been so close to believing. He wiped his mouth and set down his napkin, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Jack, what do you mean I'm back?" Jack's head whipped up, eyes wide. "What happened during the year you were gone? Do you know the future now, _my_ future?"

Jack looked dumbfounded, struck speechless, but Ianto continued.

"Is that why you want to do this, because you know something that happens? Something bad? Make the most of it while you can? Because if that's the case there is no way I can even think about this, I –"

"No!" Jack exclaimed. "No, it's not like that at all!"

"Then tell me more," Ianto hissed under his breath. "Because I am starting to freak out!"

"Yes, Jack," said a deep voice behind them, Scottish brogue lined with a sneer and the lilt of insanity. "Tell him what happened that year. Tell him how he died slowly and painfully, all because of you."

Ianto began to turn but felt his head slammed down to the table, a gun pressed to the back of his skull where his spine met his neck. He sensed rather than saw Jack jump up and pull out his Webley; he heard half the restaurant gasp. And as the muzzle of a cold gun pressed harder into his skin, he thought, 'Not again.'

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I'm introducing my own elements here. Bear with me, there's a point. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

"Leave him alone!" Jack growled. Though his head was pressed hard against the table, Ianto couldn't help but roll his eyes at the over protectiveness in Jack's voice. "It never happened."

"Of course it did, freak," the man said. He had large, cold hands, and Ianto suspected it was a Glock 17 pressing against his spine. He shifted his weight as subtly as he could, letting his arms hang loose as he waited for the right moment to make his move. Jack was right; he had changed while Jack had been gone. He could handle things like this much better, without panicking like he had so long ago in the Beacons.

"It didn't happen!" Jack hissed. "Not for him!"

"But I remember it! And so do you!" The man laughed insanely. "Now you get to watch him die twice, freak. Maybe time will reset and we can do it again and again and again."

"Like hell you will!" Jack said. Ianto heard the click of a safety and made his move. He pushed up and flung all his weight sideways against the man's arm, knocking it down toward the ground, where a shot ricocheted into the restaurant. The man swore, but it was cut off as a bullet tore through his forehead and he fell to the ground behind Ianto, dead. It was barely a minute, and it was over.

Ianto stood slowly, blood spatter on his face and neck, and turned to stare at Jack, who was staring right back at him, stunned. There was a long moment of silence, or maybe Ianto couldn't hear anything, because he would have expected screaming and crying from around them. Only silence.

He wiped a drop of blood from his cheek.

"We need to do something," he said quietly, breaking the spell. He glanced down at the dead man, his face destroyed. Obviously it was someone who knew Jack, who knew where Jack had been and what had happened, and had somehow tracked him down to hurt him.

Someone from Jack's past, pointing a gun at Ianto, threatening him. Again. Ianto was abruptly furious, and it was all he could do to stop himself from shouting in frustration and kicking the dead man's body. He clenched his fists and turned back to Jack.

Who was pale as a ghost and shaking.

He was also still holding his gun. Ianto stepped around the table and gently took the weapon, sliding it into his waistband. Jack continued to stare at the dead man on the floor.

"He was there," Jack whispered, so quiet Ianto could barely hear him as the restaurant began to stir around them. "He was one of them." Any moment security and police would be crawling all over the place. They needed to take charge, _Jack_ needed to take charge, only it was clear that he was incapable at that moment. Whatever had happened during the year he'd been held prisoner—whatever this man lying dead on the floor had done to him—had shaken Jack to his core. And that, in turn, left Ianto more frightened than he'd been since Jack had left them.

"Jack," he said, forcing his voice to stay low and calm. "Listen to me. You're in shock. But you've shot someone, and we need to deal with it right now. I'm going to call Owen, all right?"

Jack nodded, but still did not move. Ianto frowned and guided him to a chair, where his hands hung loose at his side as he stared straight ahead, locked in his own personal hell.

Ianto pulled out his mobile and called Owen, hoping it would work and that the doctor wasn't drunk, or even worse, high from pain killers. Fortunately, the call went through, and when Owen answered he sounded like his normal irascible self.

"Done with your seaside romp then?" he asked without preamble.

"We have a situation," Ianto replied. "A Torchwood situation, in the restaurant. You need to get here immediately." He paused and glanced at Jack. "And bring your medical kit."

He could hear Owen moving around already. "What's wrong? Are you injured?"

"No, it's for Jack. Someone attacked us at the restaurant and Jack…well, he shot him, only something's wrong now."

"He was one of them," Jack murmured once more. It made Ianto shiver to hear Jack's voice sound so bleak and defeated.

"Owen, hurry up," Ianto hissed. "And start thinking about how we're going to keep this from messing up the timeline back at the Hub!"

"Shit," Owen said. "I'm at the elevator. I'll be right there."

Ianto hung up and turned to Jack, but before he could say anything, several hotel security guards and police officers burst into the room, weapons raised. The patrons who hadn't already fled—and Ianto wasn't sure when that had happened, considering it had been barely five minutes since it had all started—now stood and ran from the room. From the corner of his eye he saw more police directing them out. They'd probably all be processed and questioned. Ianto wondered if they'd need to be Retconned.

"Hands up!" shouted one of the police. Ianto turned slowly, his hands in the air. Jack didn't even blink. "You too!"

"He's in shock," Ianto offered.

"Shut up," the woman snapped.

"I'm with Torchwood, I have ID," Ianto replied. He started to reach toward his pocket, but the officer stopped him, waving her gun at him. A second officer moved toward the body.

"This man attacked us," Ianto started. "We're licensed to carry."

"And licensed to kill?" sneered the policeman, who was leaning over the dead man's body and checking for signs of life. "Torchwood isn't the bloody Mafia, you know."

"He attacked us," Ianto repeated. The woman approached him and began to pat him down. Still Jack didn't respond, which was when Ianto knew something was very wrong. Especially when she found Jack's gun and handed it to the officer in charge with no protest from Jack.

"Oi!" called Owen, bursting into the room. "Torchwood, step aside!"

"Bloody hell," murmured one of the cops. Several others swore under their breath as well. They stopped Owen from going any further.

"Sod off," Owen snapped. "I'm a doctor, let me in."

"ID?" asked the man. Owen pulled out his badge, flipped it open, and stomped past the man. He eyed Ianto first, taking in the blood on his face and shirt.

"Not mine," Ianto murmured, lowering his hands. "I'm fine. See to Jack."

Ignoring the officers around him, Owen knelt in front of Jack, who was still pale and shaking, murmuring under his breath.

"Did he get shot?" asked Owen, frowning as he checked Jack's vitals. Ianto shook his head.

"He wasn't injured as far as I know. I think he's in shock. He shot the man on the floor when we were attacked."

Owen spared a glance toward the dead man. "Nice shot. Still doesn't explain why he's like this."

"It was someone he recognized, someone he knew. And not someone good."

Owen's head shot up. "Another psychotic ex-boyfriend then?"

"I don't think it's like that, but definitely psychotic."

"All right, who can tell me what's going on?" asked a familiar voice from the doorway. And then, "Oh hell, it's you lot again."

"Good evening, Detective Swanson," Ianto replied, secretly grateful that someone who at least knew something about Torchwood had arrived. She might even help them if he played his cards right.

"Mr. Jones," replied Kathy Swanson. "Why am I not surprised?"

Ianto frowned. "It's not like we shoot up hotels all the time," he said.

"True, and yet I'm still not surprised. What's going on?"

She motioned the officers still training their weapons on him to stand down. Ianto finally relaxed and moved closer so that only she could hear him.

"This man attacked us at our table, and I'm certain witness statements will corroborate that. He pushed me down, held a gun to my neck, and threatened to shoot me. I attempted to disarm him and Jack shot him after the man's gun ricocheted into the restaurant."

"Should be easy enough to prove," Swanson said. "So who is he?"

Ianto glanced toward Jack, who did not answer. He wasn't even sure if Jack was listening. "I'm not sure. But he knew Jack and threatened him personally."

"He's UNIT," Jack said, his voice gravelly. "Lieutenant James McMahan."

"Shit," Owen muttered under his breath. Ianto agreed. Why was UNIT coming after Jack?

"Secret organization infighting now?" Swanson suggested dryly. "That's just great. Not only do we have to worry about bloody Torchwood swooping around Cardiff like they own it, but now we have to worry about petty gang wars with UNIT?"

"Not at all," Ianto assured her. "Whatever's happened here, we'll deal with it. It won't be a problem."

"You'd better. I'm not cleaning up after both of you. Torchwood is bad enough." She sighed and glanced down at the body. "I suppose you want to handle this?"

"Actually, some help with the cleanup would be much appreciated," Ianto replied quietly. "We're…well, sort of in the middle of something at the moment."

She eyed the table with their unfinished dinner and drinks and shook her head. "Like a date?"

"Not at all," Ianto hedged nervously. "It might look like we're here enjoying ourselves, but we're actually…er…"

"Working on a case," said Owen, standing and joining them. "Which is classified, of course. I need to see Jack privately in his room. So if we're finished here?"

Swanson ignored him and spoke directly to Ianto. "Do you want the body?"

Before she could answer, Jack finally spoke. "No. Send him directly to UNIT. Tell them we'll contact them tomorrow when we're…" Since he couldn't very well finish with "done hiding from our past selves in a time loop," Ianto finished for him.

"When we're able, Detective." He sighed and pulled her to the side while Owen helped Jack. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jack wave the doctor away, but Owen still kept a hand on Jack's elbow. Jack was clearly unsteady on his feet and moved slowly, as if in a daze, as they left the room.

"Look, I apologize for…for everything," Ianto said, turning back to Detective Swanson. "I'll explain more when I can. Perhaps if I came by the station later tomorrow?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you need to do, Jones. I'm used to it by now, and when I write it up, it goes straight into the shredder anyway."

Ianto was surprised at that. He knew the local authorities had no love for Torchwood, but he hadn't thought it was quite so bad. Torchwood did their dirty work much of the time, even if they didn't realize it; it only seemed fair they shouldered the more ordinary cases once in a while.

"Right. Thank you. And if you don't mind…if you need to reach us…" He struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation. She couldn't contact the Hub, because their past selves were there and would have no idea what she was talking about. And if she tried to contact one of their mobiles directly, it would likely go through to their past selves as well, since those phones were operating in the same timeline as her. He idly wondered what would happen when they all caught up and moved on, then decided not to think about it too hard. There were other things to worry about.

"Contact us here, directly," he finished. He gave her his room number as well as Jack's, deciding it was necessary for heading off any confusion, as well as any possible paradoxes.

She nodded, but before Ianto could leave, she stopped him. "Is Harkness all right?" she asked quietly, so that no one else heard them. "I've never seen him so…unobtrusive at a crime scene before."

"It's been a long day," Ianto offered lamely.

"I thought he was off doing secret Torchwood stuff?" she asked. Ianto had told her that, after she'd asked about Jack's absence. It had been hard to miss, after all. Most of Cardiff police had realized after a few months that the bloke with the long coat and obnoxious flirting hadn't turned up with the rest of the team for a while. Ianto had only confirmed it—and promptly lied about it—to keep Swanson on their side.

"And now he's back," he replied curtly.

"With a bang!" she said, miming a gun with her fingers. Ianto couldn't help but smile half-heartedly at the flippancy, because in many ways, it was true. Jack had certainly returned with a bang.

"Good luck settling back in," she said before walking away. Ianto stood for a moment and pondered her words. She knew very little about them, and yet she was so very right. They would need time to settle back in, all of them. Not only he and Jack, but the entire team. They had redefined themselves while Jack had been gone, and now they would have to do so again. Things couldn't go back to the way they were, they had all grown too much during Jack's absence. Yet Jack was their leader and had every right to reassert his role as such. It would be a delicate balancing act, and Ianto felt the added complication of his undefined relationship with Jack.

Although he knew that Detective Swanson would handle everything effectively, Ianto still felt that Torchwood needed to do its part. He spoke with the hotel manager, assuring him that they—and he left out Torchwood, even though he knew the police on site would certainly not keep it secret—would compensate the hotel for any damage. He told the manager that there would be no further incidents, and that they would be checking out the following morning.

After listening in on several of the witness statements, he decided that there was nothing they needed Retcon for. There had been no alien menace, no alien technology. If anyone had heard the short conversation between Jack and their assailant, it certainly wouldn't make sense to them and be written off as a personal vendetta. Which is exactly what it was, even if time travel were involved. No one in the restaurant knew or need know.

That left finding and informing Tosh and Gwen, after which Ianto would check in with Jack and hopefully have a chance to collapse back in his room with a stiff drink and too many thoughts to ponder, alone.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the mysterious assailant comes and goes. He's more of a catalyst than a player. Last chapter in a day or so - don't hate me. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Ianto found Tosh and Gwen in the lobby, looking for him and Jack. They'd finished their massages and had caught on to the excitement that was half the Cardiff police force walking around the hotel. Ianto explained what had happened, assuring them that he was all right, and that Jack was uninjured as well. He left out the details about their assailant, about his strange words and Jack's debilitating reaction. They wanted a team meeting immediately to discuss the incident, since they couldn't understand why a UNIT officer would attack Torchwood. Without going into detail, Ianto told them to return to their rooms and wait for Jack's call.

Naturally, they ignored him, though he sensed it was more out of concern for Jack and the team's safety than a slight against him. They followed him all the way to Jack's room and right to the door, which certainly precluded any chance of Ianto speaking to Jack privately. He knew instinctively that Jack would be feeling extremely vulnerable, and that admitting it to the team would only make it worse. In spite of his own confusion, Ianto wanted to protect Jack as best as he could, but Tosh and especially Gwen refused to listen to him. They entered Jack's room ahead of him, and Ianto stood back, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Jack stood by the window, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Gwen burst in first, firing question after question. Tosh attempted to show more concern, at least, but Gwen pressed and pushed, moving closer and demanding answers. Finally, Jack turned on her, and she froze in her spot.

His eyes were dark and full of pain and sorrow. He let her see it all, and she took a step back, unable to bear up under the weight of his burden.

"Jack, are you all right?" Tosh asked again. Jack's gaze softened as he nodded to her, then turned back around to the window. Ianto wondered if anyone else could see the tightly coiled fear and anger in the set of his shoulders, the look on his face, the clenching of his hands. He doubted they did.

Jack did not speak, and Tosh looked at Owen for an answer. The doctor threw up his hands.

"I don't know what the hell's going on, no one's talking to me. Ask teaboy, he was there."

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at him, but before he could even clear his throat to try and answer, Jack whipped around.

"No," he said.

"Jack," started Gwen. "Let us help—"

"There's nothing you can do," he replied. "Go back to your rooms. Sleep. Eat. We'll meet in the morning."

Owen frowned. "But what about the cleanup? Shouldn't we make sure things are straight downstairs?"

Ianto finally spoke up. "The situation is contained. I spoke to Detective Swanson at length, and believe she understands the need for discretion. Though seeing as there were no aliens involved, it's not strictly necessary."

"What about—" Gwen started, but Ianto continued, ignoring her.

"They're taking witness accounts that state exactly what happened: that this man attacked us without provocation and that Jack shot him in self-defense. There's no need for Retcon. The detective will send the body to UNIT. I'll speak more with her as needed tomorrow."

"What about UNIT?" Tosh asked softly.

"I'll deal with them," Jack replied darkly. Ianto couldn't help but wonder what that might do to Jack, if he could handle facing those demons so soon.

"What about our past selves? Or rather, the present ones back in the Hub?" asked Owen. "Any way they'll get wind of this?"

"I asked Swanson to contact us here directly if needed," Ianto replied. "I also spoke with the hotel manager and assured her there will be no further incidents, and that we will compensate the hotel and guests for any damages."

"That still doesn't explain why a UNIT officer attacked you!" Gwen exclaimed, looking at Jack, when it was Ianto who had actually been attacked and done most of the speaking.

"And there is no explanation," Jack replied, his tone of voice indicating that there probably was one, but that he would not be sharing it, possibly ever. "It's over. Go back to your rooms."

They started to speak, all three of them at once. Jack turned his back on them. "Good night."

Owen muttered under his breath and was the first to head toward the door. He paused in front of Ianto. "Call me if he needs anything. He checked out okay and came out of it, but wouldn't take anything."

"Thank you," said Ianto. Owen eyed him curiously.

"Are you all right? The guy didn't get you?"

"I'm fine," Ianto replied. "Just another gun in my face. Business as usual." Owen snorted and left. Tosh followed reluctantly, laying her hand on Ianto's arm. She was clearly confused and concerned, and he nodded at her to go ahead, reassuring her with a smile that he was all right.

He took a step toward the door, but didn't know whether to stay or go. Gwen appeared determined to stay, glancing at Ianto, then turning back to Jack.

"Good night, Gwen," he said, as if sensing whatever words were on the tip of her tongue.

She sighed heavily, more frustrated than rejected, and turned to leave, stopping at the door and waiting for Ianto, as if her dismissal meant his as well. He waited a half minute for Jack to stop him, to ask him to stay, to order him, but Jack was silent, and shamefully, Ianto's discomfort overrode his concern, and he headed toward the door with Gwen.

"I'll be in my room if you need anything, sir," he said quietly. "But the situation should be under control for now."

He moved away, only to be stopped by Jack's, "Ianto, wait!"

He turned, inexplicably relieved. "Yes, sir?"

Jack turned as well. "Are you all right?" he asked. Ianto could almost feel Gwen frowning behind him.

"As I told Owen, I'm fine, sir," Ianto replied. "I wasn't injured in any way."

"Please don't call me sir," Jack murmured. He moved away from his post by the window, but stopped when he saw Gwen. "Good night, Gwen."

"Jack, what really happened down there?" she asked, either oblivious to Ianto or ignoring the tension in the room. "What are you keeping from us?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Gwen," he said heavily. "Go back to your room. Please." Ianto thought Gwen would have picked up on the weary tone in Jack's words, but she clearly didn't, still refusing to move. He turned to her.

"He'll be fine," he murmured, even though he knew she was more concerned about finding out the truth than Jack's state of mind. He took her elbow and physically guided her to the door. "I'll make sure he gets some rest before I head back to my room."

She eyed him suspiciously, obviously still reluctant to leave without answers. Ianto wanted to shout at her, push her out the door and slam it behind her, but settled for stepping into the corridor with her and reassuring her once more than everything was all right. She finally shook her head.

"I don't like secrets, Ianto," she said. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"You should be used to them by now, in this job," he offered lightly.

"I'm talking about with the team," she replied.

"About Jack," he corrected. She nodded.

"Gwen, you knew Jack's biggest secret from the moment you joined the team. I don't think you have much to complain about if he chooses to keep other secrets."

She looked surprised at his words, and before she could retort, he continued. "Think about who we're talking about. Jack is a time-traveling immortal from the future. Of course he has secrets. And he keeps them for a reason. He keeps them to protect us, and quite possibly to protect time itself."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"There's so much he can't tell us," Ianto said. He'd had a lot of time to think about those things when Jack had left. Between all the little comments Jack had let drop, he'd formed his own theory on Jack's past and was convinced he was close, if not right. "If we knew the future, we could change it. If we changed it, we'd change whatever threw Jack back to the past. And then he might not even be here, which would create a paradox."

She seemed to digest this. "Why can't he tell us other things, simple things? Like what happened downstairs earlier? That has nothing to do with the future!"

Again, Ianto had a pretty good idea of why Jack didn't say anything to the team about what had happened in the restaurant, and probably wouldn't, but it wasn't his place to share his thoughts, because that would betray Jack's confidence. So he talked around a real answer; he was good at it by now.

"Because maybe he doesn't quite know, Gwen," he replied. "Maybe he doesn't understand why a UNIT officer would show up a day after he's returned and threaten to kill us. And maybe we need to trust him to figure it out in his own way."

"How do we know it won't happen again?" she demanded. Ianto shook his head.

"We don't, so we'll keep our eyes open, that's all. It's not like we don't anyway. Something could fall out of the Rift tomorrow and take us all out."

"That's a cheery thought," she grumbled.

"John Hart," he pointed out. She made a face, and he couldn't help but smirk, which earned him a small smile in return.

"All right," she said. "I have no choice but to trust you."

"I know it's hard," he replied, and she shook her head, laid her hand on his arm.

"No, it's not hard to trust you, sweetheart," she said, and he finished for her.

"It's hard to trust Jack."

"But you trust him," she said, and he sighed.

"I was there when it happened," he replied. "So yes, in this, I trust him."

"He left us, Ianto," she pointed out.

"And he came back," he retorted. She deflated.

"I know," she said. "But where was he, what did he do, why did he go?" She glanced up and met his eyes. "Do you think he'll ever tell us?"

He glanced back at the door. "I don't know. It depends on what happened."

She studied him closely. "Call us if you need anything, all right?"

"Of course," he said, though he'd certainly do no such thing. "I'm going to make sure everything's all right before I turn in myself."

She nodded, and Ianto had the distinct impression that she would be watching his door for him to return. He pushed it aside to focus on more important things.

"Good night, Gwen. I'll see you in the morning."

He turned without another word and stepped back into Jack's room. He locked the door behind him, irrationally afraid of another attack or worse, a team member bursting in. Leaning back against the door, he closed his eyes and did not hear Jack approach until he sensed the man was close. When he opened his eyes, Jack was standing right in front of him.

"You sure you're all right?" Jack asked quietly, taking another step closer.

"Are you?" Ianto countered. It was clear that Jack was far more affected by the incident than Ianto, after all.

Jack glanced down, toeing the ground. "Not really, but I will be."

"Is there anything I can do?" Ianto asked.

"Don't go," Jack murmured, and now he was very close, close enough to touch and feel and smell, and Ianto wasn't sure if he wanted to reach out or back away.

"Jack, I'm not sure if—" Ianto started, but Jack cut him off by kissing him hard, and Ianto couldn't resist, didn't want to resist, because Jack had always been brilliant at kissing and Ianto had missed that. He wouldn't let it go any further, though. He and Jack had been making progress when first Jack's slip and then a homicidal maniac from UNIT had derailed their dinner in a very serious way. Ianto still needed some answers before moving forward, whether Jack was willing to offer them or not. He deserved them if Jack wanted something more than casual shagging.

Fortunately, Jack stopped and pulled back first. He ran a hand along Ianto's face. "You're not sure about what?"

"If it's a good idea for me to stay."

Jack's face fell as he stepped away. "I understand. But can I…can we finish what we started in the restaurant?"

Ianto frowned, surprised at Jack's request. "Are you still hungry?"

Jack laughed as he took Ianto's hand and it felt wonderful. He led Ianto back into the room, over to a table by the window. "No, I'm not hungry, but I want to explain," he said, motioning Ianto to sit down and taking a chair opposite him.

"You don't have to," Ianto started, but Jack stopped him.

"Yes, I do," he said. "I want to."

"Why?" Ianto asked. It was one of many questions sitting at the tip of his tongue, but more than anything, he needed to understand Jack's motivations. Why was he doing any of this?

"Why what?" Jack asked.

"Explain. You've not been one to offer information freely in the past, after all," Ianto said. A look of hurt flashed across Jack's face and Ianto felt bad, but it was true. And he was the same way. Yes, they'd started sleeping together after Lisa had died, but they hadn't talked much. About real things, anyway. Simple things, yes. With occasional depth, perhaps, but nothing in the way of secrets and explanations and feelings. Their meal at the restaurant had been one of their most revealing conversations to date.

"I know, I know," Jack said, sounding upset. "But believe me when I say it's not always because I want to keep things from you, but because I have to!"

Ianto reached out to reassure Jack. "I know. I told Gwen the same thing in the hallway. And it's all right. If there are things you can't tell me because it's something that will affect the future, then…just tell me that, and I'll accept it. Really," he added at Jack's skeptical look.

"Okay," he said slowly. "But other things I can't tell you because…well, they're too awful, Ianto. I wasn't always a good person. You shouldn't know the things I know, the things I've seen and done."

"Jack." Ianto waited until the man met his eyes. "What matters is the man you are now. And if sharing the awful things that you've seen or done helps to relieve you of the burden, I'm always willing to listen."

Jack laughed and hung his head. "You're more amazing than I even remembered," he murmured.

"I try my best," Ianto replied. They exchanged a smile, then sat in awkward silence for a long moment, until Ianto couldn't stand it any longer. Jack wasn't saying anything more and Ianto wasn't going to ask, not then. He just wanted to leave, to go back to his room and figure out what the hell was going on—with UNIT, with Jack, with them—on his own. "Look, Jack, I should probably—"

"I told you I was gone for a year," Jack interrupted. "But it wasn't time travel, not exactly. That year happened here on Earth, for everyone. For you. And it was a horrible, horrible year. But it was caused by a paradox. When we destroyed the paradox, time was reset. And so it didn't happen after all, for everyone here on Earth."

"Then why don't we remember?" Ianto asked, thoroughly confused. He understood paradoxes well enough, but they were in the middle of a time reset and they'd kept all their memories. If an entire year had passed, why didn't anyone remember it?

"Only those of us at the heart of the paradox remember," Jack replied with a shrug. "I don't understand, and sometimes I wish I didn't remember. But I do, because I was there. I escaped and destroyed the machine creating the paradox."

"Saving the world again," Ianto said with a smile, picturing it in his mind's eye. Jack vehemently shook his head.

"No, not exactly. A woman named Martha Jones, she saved the world. She was the Doctor's Companion, and we couldn't have escaped without her."

"Sounds like a remarkable woman," Ianto replied. Of course he wondered about this woman and what had happened, but Jack was there, with him, sharing his past and asking him on dates, so it didn't matter. Not really.

"Yes. She was there when I destroyed the paradox, on the Valiant. Everyone who was on board remembers."

"On the…" Ianto trailed off, staring at Jack in shock. "The Valiant? You were held prisoner on a UNIT ship? The one where the Prime Minister died?" He couldn't believe it.

Jack sighed. "Yes," he whispered. "I was held prisoner with the Doctor on the Valiant," he said. "It was the center of the paradox."

"And that man, in the restaurant tonight, he was on board as well? That's why he said he remembers, because he was there?"

Jack nodded, watching Ianto apprehensively. And then something made sudden, horrible sense.

"He said you could watch me die again," Ianto said, sitting back and pulling away into his own space. "You said I was back. I died during the year you were gone, didn't I?"

"Ianto, I—" Jack started, but Ianto stood and began pacing, sudden manic energy threatening to send him running from the room. He'd wanted answers, but he hadn't expected them to be so terrible.

"He said I died painfully because of you," Ianto murmured, then turned to Jack. "Tell me what happened."

"It didn't happen," Jack said, his voice desperate. "It _didn't._ You're here, alive. Nothing happened to you."

"But it did!" Ianto exclaimed. "It happened to you, and to all the others on board the Valiant who still remember that year. An entire year than never was."

"Exactly!" Jack practically shouted, jumping up and waving his hands around. "The year that never was. Time reset so it never happened."

"But it did," Ianto said.

"Only it didn't," Jack snapped. "Don't you understand?"

"How can I when I wasn't there? I was dead!" Jack inhaled sharply, and Ianto took a breath to calm himself. "I want to know what happened."

"No," said Jack. "You don't."

"If there are others out there who are going to show up and try to kill me again, then I deserve to know! I'm a part of this now, whether you like it or not, Jack. So why was he here? Why did he track you down and think it would be a good idea to kill me again?"

"I don't know," Jack whispered, shaking his head in denial. "He was a guard on the Valiant. One of my guards. He was there every day. He saw everything."

Jack had gone distant again, much like he had several times during their conversation at the restaurant. Ianto took several more deep breaths to quell his own frustration. It wasn't about him, he told himself. Jack had left to find answers, but had been captured and held prisoner; he was the one clearly suffering. Ianto was here, alive and uninjured. But he still needed to know, now that he had been dragged into it. Again.

They were silent. Ianto walked over to the minibar and opened it, took out several small bottles of liquor, and set them on the table. He found some glasses and poured them both a finger of vodka, straight up, to start. Then he sat down and took a sip, and waited to hear his fate.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the fourth chapter was over 6K, I decided to split it and this seemed like a good place to take a break! Last chapter tomorrow to resolve the situation, though I suspect there will eventually be another story to resolve the resolution. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

"What did he see, Jack?" Ianto asked quietly, once he felt settled enough to speak. Whether Jack spoke of his own experience or Ianto's death, either way, Ianto would learn something. He suspected it might help Jack to talk about it.

Jack took a deep breath and finally sat down across from him again. He knocked back his drink and poured an entire mini bottle of gin into his glass. And then he once again said the unexpected.

"Harold Saxon held us prisoner," he began, holding up his hand when Ianto tried to speak, to ask how such a thing was even possible. "He was known as the Master, and he committed unbelievable atrocities, things you couldn't even begin to imagine."

It sounded insane, but somehow Ianto knew Jack was telling the truth. "I voted for him," he murmured, disgusted with himself.

"Everyone did," Jack replied, sounding weary. "He had a satellite network that tricked people into believing him, trusting him. But he wasn't even human."

"The Prime Minister of England wasn't human?" Ianto asked in disbelief.

"He wasn't, no," Jack said, and held up his hand. "And there's more to that story, so much more, but not now, all right?" Ianto nodded reluctantly. He finished his drink, poured himself another, and motioned at Jack to continue.

"He took over the planet during that year, destroyed entire countries, killed millions. And I couldn't do anything—I couldn't help you, couldn't help anyone—because I was held prisoner on board the Valiant. I was chained in the engine room, covered in dirt and sweat, barely fed." By this point Jack's voice had gone flat, as if he were objectively stating the facts and not reliving the traumatic experience he'd survived for a year.

"There's more," Ianto said softly.

"You asked if I died while I was gone. He killed me," Jack stated, then laughed bitterly, obviously sublimating the anger and pain. "A lot. At first he was curious, thought I was a freak and was determined to know what brought me back. Eventually he got tired of trying to figure it out, and decided it was fun to find new ways of killing me, or a good distraction when he was bored and angry."

Ianto shook his head as his eyes slip closed. He didn't need to know anymore. Jack's time away had been horrific; now he needed to recover and move on. When Ianto opened his eyes, Jack was watching him with tears on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What for?" Ianto exclaimed. "Jesus Jack, you tell me all these things and then apologize for it? It wasn't your fault, none of it. You have nothing to apologize for!"

"Let me anyway," Jack said. He glanced down, his face contorting in pain, before he took a breath and looked up again. "I'm sorry you died because of me."

"Jack, don't—"

"He caught you, all of you. Owen first, then Gwen, then Tosh. And he killed all of them, just like that. But you…you were brought to the Valiant. You had pissed him off. And you were the last, so he decided to have some more fun and bring you to me. He knew I couldn't die and decided to torture me in other ways. By making me watch."

"Oh my god." Ianto could not imagine the horror of such a moment.

"You were so strong," Jack whispered. "You'd been fighting the Toclafane for months, but you were still so strong, so defiant. The things he did…but you didn't break, never gave him what he wanted. And so he killed you."

"Slowly and painfully, like McMahan said," Ianto finished.

"He was there," Jack said. "He saw it all—your defiance, your death…me. Saxon knew you were Torchwood, obviously, but he also knew that you mattered. To me. It was my fault you were made to suffer like that."

"But I didn't," Ianto replied tiredly. "It didn't happen for me, remember? You said that time reset. We're all here, alive."

"I know," Jack said heavily. "I know that. But I also know what I saw and felt that day."

They sat at the table in silence, unsure what to say. It wasn't every day Ianto learned that he'd been tortured and killed in an alternate timeline he didn't remember. Jack was staring into his glass, his shoulders slumped, guilt radiating from him in waves. Which was when the answer he'd been searching for suddenly occurred to Ianto.

He'd been wondering all night why Jack had come back to earth when he'd had the opportunity to travel the universe. He was from another planet, another time, and had been waiting over one hundred years for the Doctor, to find the answers he so desperately needed. Ianto had almost accepted that Jack had come back to Torchwood because it mattered to him, because he cared. What he couldn't understand was why Jack kept insisting that he'd come back for Ianto. Why he'd asked Ianto on a date. Why he'd wanted to have dinner with him.

Jack felt guilty. Ianto's association with Torchwood and his previous relationship with Jack…whatever it had been…had got him captured and killed, and Jack had been forced to watch. Did he think he could somehow make it up to Ianto? With dinner and a movie? A relationship based on guilt and the promise of redemption through feelings found in another reality? Ianto didn't want to believe that Jack was only interested in a relationship with Ianto because of his guilt, yet he couldn't help thinking about it. It all made a sad sort of sense now.

Ianto finished his second drink and set it down. He stood and glanced at Jack, disappointment and hurt flowing through him, warring with the desire to be with Jack anyway. But he couldn't do this, not now. He hated hurting Jack and would do so as gently as he could, but he couldn't stay anymore, couldn't do dinner and a movie. It didn't feel right, knowing it was all forced.

"You should get some rest," Ianto said softly. "You've been through a lot, and you died again earlier. You should sleep."

Jack jumped up. "You're leaving?" he asked. "Now?"

"I'm tired too," Ianto replied with a shrug. "And there's still be work to be done in the morning."

"Ianto, I—"

"It's fine, Jack," Ianto said wearily. "You don't need to keep apologizing and explaining. You've probably used up your quota for the year."

Jack frowned. "But you still don't believe me."

"I believe you didn't mean to leave the way you did, but had to go when you had the chance," Ianto replied. "I believe you were gone for a year instead of four months, and that something terrible happened to you. I believe you wanted to come back after such a horrific experience."

"But you don't believe I want to be with you," Jack said, cutting right to the heart of it.

"It's hard, Jack," Ianto sighed. "I want to, and for a few moments I did. But I've had two men from your past pull out a gun and threaten to shoot me, and then I find out I actually did die in your alternate reality. I know you're looking for something to hold on to after what happened while you were gone, but I don't know if it's really me, or if you feel so guilty you're trying to make it be me, to make up for what happened to the other me. None of which I remember, by the way," Ianto pointed out. "So it's confusing."

"What can I do?" Jack asked. He'd asked the same thing earlier that night, but this time he almost sounded like he was begging, desperate for Ianto to tell him how to make it right. Ianto had no answer.

"It's late," he said. "I should go."

"No, talk to me!" Jack said, reaching for his hand and stopping him. "What can I do?"

"I don't know!" Ianto exclaimed. "I have no idea how to…to deal with any of this. Which is bloody ridiculous because none of it happened to me! I shouldn't be the one struggling with this when I don't even remember any of it."

"I shouldn't have told you, I'm sorry—" Jack started, and Ianto cut him off.

"No, you had to tell me. That man pointed that gun at me, threatened to kill me. It doesn't matter if I don't remember what he does. I deserve to know now that I'm a part of it, however unofficially."

"I wish you weren't," Jack murmured, looking so lost.

"But I am. And I'm sorry I don't know what else to say, what else to do. I just need…I need some time. Space. Sleep."

Jack opened his mouth, and Ianto thought maybe Jack was going to ask him to stay, to even share a bed with him. The thought of staying for physical comfort was tempting, but Jack didn't say anything, and Ianto was both disappointed and relieved. He walked to the door, yet couldn't help but turn around.

"Will you be all right?" he asked quietly. Just because he was confused didn't mean he wasn't concerned.

"Yes," said Jack. He moved a little closer, and Ianto didn't step away. "I don't think I said anything, but thank you for tonight. For having dinner with me, for listening, but even more for handling things when they all went wrong."

"Just doing my job," Ianto replied.

"Because I wasn't doing mine," Jack said. "And I'd apologize, but I think you might actually hit me if I do."

"I might," Ianto nodded very seriously. Jack grinned.

"You did good down there, especially with Swanson. You were amazing, in fact. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ianto replied, confused. Jack stepped closer.

"I know I can't convince you to stay longer," he said. "And I'm not sure I've convinced you of anything else, either. But I'm not trying to alleviate my guilt, or make up for what happened while I was gone. I wanted to see you then and I still do now. I know it didn't work out downstairs, but can we try again? I promised you dinner and a movie."

Ianto met his eyes, saw nothing but honesty, and looked away.

"I don't know if I can," he finally replied. "Not now…not yet."

Jack inhaled sharply but nodded in understanding. "So not a yes anymore, but not a no. Is that a maybe?"

"Maybe," Ianto repeated. He was struck by the insanity of it, that Jack Harkness had asked him on a date, and now he was actually hesitating. It wasn't like he'd never considered it in the past. He had, and then laughed it off. They weren't like that. They'd been shagging for a few months, but it had fallen apart when Jack had gone back to 1941. Ianto had realized then that their apparently casual arrangement was starting to mean more to him. Only the Rift had splintered and the world had almost ended, and then Jack had died, come back to life, and left. Ianto had thought of him often, but had also put it from his mind as nothing more than missing his sometime lover, not any sort of longing for a more meaningful relationship. He hadn't been ready then, and even now he still couldn't say if he was ready or if he wanted it. He only knew he hated the awkwardness between them, the longing tainted with uncertainty, disappointment, and mistrust.

Jack took another step and placed his hands on Ianto's waist. Ianto still didn't move, not even when Jack placed his lips to his and kissed him, gently at first, and then with more energy, more passion. Ianto returned the kiss, letting his tongue tangle with Jack's and simply enjoying the moment rather than trying to analyze it. A hazy part of his mind began to recognize how easy it would be to lose himself in the physicality of it, as they had before. To let sex calm his jumbled thoughts and warm his cold heart. But that would make it complicated now that Jack wanted more, and Ianto couldn't do complicated. Or rather, he couldn't do something that was even more complicated than his life already was.

And so before he could raise his arms and let his fingers run through Jack's hair and down his back, he placed his hands on Jack's chest instead and slowly pushed away, stepping back with a deep regret that he tried to bury and ignore.

"Good night," he said, then smiled to soften his abrupt exit. "I'll be down the hall if you need anything."

"Anything?" Jack asked, almost sounding like his normal self, but not quite.

"You know what I mean," Ianto said. "Good night, Jack."

And he finally turned, walked to the door, and left. Pulling it shut behind him, he took a deep breath before he headed down the hall toward his room. He imagined he could feel the others looking at him through a crack in their doors and ignored it. He definitely tried not to think about Gwen sneaking down to Jack's room.

Returning to his room, Ianto kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket onto a chair. He headed straight to the bathroom, where he realized he still had blood on his shirt. Abruptly disgusted, he pulled it off and threw it on the floor. His trousers followed quickly, and after scrubbing his face and hair as much as he could, he grabbed the robe in the closet to stay warm.

He poured the rest of the red wine from earlier into a glass and contemplated ordering something to eat considering his meal downstairs had been interrupted, and he'd had a fair amount to drink. Yet he couldn't muster the energy. He slumped onto the bed, setting the glass beside him and staring at the ceiling as he contemplated his life over the past forty- eight hours.

He'd come to work, enjoyed a cup of coffee with Tosh, bantered a bit with Owen over an alien autopsy, gone on a tech retrieval with Gwen. They'd had dinner as a team and gone out after a blowfish in a stolen car. And then Jack had returned, only for his crazy ex-partner to show up and con them all into looking for a bomb that wasn't really a bomb but the key to a rare jewel. And in between, Jack had asked Ianto on a date. It spoke volumes about Ianto's life that the most unusual thing to happen to him, the thing that made him most nervous, was the prospect of a date.

Everything else that had happened the rest of the night had only made matters worse. He'd been accosted first by John Hart and then by James McMahan. He'd heard Jack's story only to realize that nothing was as it seemed anymore. Not Jack, not their date, not even reality and their former Prime Minister. A part of Ianto wanted to throw caution to the wind and call Jack, just fall into bed and talk it out later, but Ianto knew he needed time and space. If Jack was serious about wanting more, and Ianto was finally beginning to think he was, then Ianto needed to be sure of what he wanted as well.

Because he knew it would only end in heartbreak for one or both them. It was the nature of their relationship, of their job, of their lives—both mortal and immortal. Ianto was wary of entering any kind of relationship after losing Lisa, but especially with Jack. He wasn't sure he'd survive another heartbreak. And yet…he missed Jack. He liked Jack. He wanted Jack. Wasn't that reason enough to say yes? To take the chance? He damned his overthinking mind for trying to protect his heart, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore it.

The irony burned, that in some ways he'd been waiting for Jack to return since the day Jack had left them. There'd been some days when he would have given anything to see Jack again, to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, to kiss him one last time. Yet now that Jack had returned, Ianto felt even more lost, more unsure. He wasn't ready to date Jack, but he hoped he might be one day, and that Jack would still be interested and available.

Until that day—which could be the next week or next month—Ianto knew he would have to carry on. To build a new normal around Jack once more. Starting in the morning, when they returned to the timeline and the Hub once more. There would be Weevils and space junk and probably more psychos. They would need to deal with UNIT, and Ianto suspected much of that would fall to him if Jack's reaction were anything to go by. And he would have to do it all while remaining hyper-aware of Jack's offer of another date and the 'Maybe' that hung between them.

He would carry on, because he had to. Finishing his wine, Ianto laid back on the pillows, sleep slowly claiming him. He drifted through restless dreams of blowfish and diamonds and guns and Jack, always Jack. Only Jack. When he woke up in the morning, tangled in his robe and exhausted, he knew it would be a difficult—to see Jack and the others and the Hub. But it was his job, his life, and he would do it, because he had to. And maybe one day, when he was ready, he'd wake up and take Jack to that dinner and movie.

One day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this begs for a sequel of sorts, particularly to make it canon, and I do hope to write it soon. With this story, I was playing around with several things. First of all, I've always wondered about Ianto's reaction to Jack's return. Fanon often portrays him as a selfless, understanding martyr who sets aside his own emotions for others, namely Jack. Ianto has every right to be angry and upset about a number of things regarding Jack's disappearance and return, and he definitely seemed a bit distant and awkward in KKBB and even Sleeper. But then we see nothing after that. Jack asked him on a date, and that was it. While I do see Ianto being the character who would be most understanding of Jack's year away, and can even see him setting aside much of his anger after learning of Jack's difficult time away, I still think he'd need time to process it. And that there would still be hurt and trust issues.
> 
> Which brings me to my second point, something I've always wanted to write. Ianto is positively sassy in Sleeper, above and beyond any other episode. I've often wondered if it was a reflection of his mood regarding Jack's return. Jack gives him a few almost confused glances, like he isn't sure about the intent behind Ianto's words—is he joking, is he angry, is he serious? I could see the sass coming from a bitter place or a confused place, but definitely as Ianto working through some things.
> 
> The third thing going on here is the idea of the UNIT attacker as a catalyst. Maybe things would have been fine if he hadn't shown up, but here he functions as a catalyst in terms of pushing things one way or the other. When I first thought about someone from that year showing up to hurt Jack, I thought it would be a long, plotty story centered around that event. But it didn't work out that way, it was merely a catalyst. It pushed Jack into sharing more and Ianto into backing off. And not necessarily because of what Jack shared, because I think Ianto would have been all right at the end of their meal if it hadn't been so rudely interrupted, but because of the attack itself. Another reminder of the dangers of Torchwood and being with Jack. It also makes him question Jack's intentions. Again fanon assumes Jack thought about Ianto a lot while he was gone, but he says the same thing to Gwen. It's possible, however much I don't like it, that he was motivated by some small feelings of guilt for something that happened to Ianto during that year. At least, I find it interesting to explore, which is where a lot of my stories tend to start.
> 
> So yes, it's a bit of a different ending for me in that the boys aren't really quite together here. But there is more to this story! Because after Ianto's sass in Sleeper, we get that golden moment in To The Last Man, the best kiss on television. Ianto's obviously come around, and Jack has, however vaguely, admitted something he doesn't seem to admit very often. How did they get there? Obviously they need to address the UNIT officer and continue to deal with the emotional fallout of The Year That Never Was. But as tends to happen in stories like this, something unexpected brings them together, and I do hope to write that story soon, for I know exactly what it is. Until then, know that as far as I'm concerned, this is canon, not an AU where Jack and Ianto fail to get back together for series 2. There will be that kiss, and those dates, and that hothouse scene, no worries! Thank you for reading, I do hope you enjoyed this look at Jack and Ianto navigating the new waters of their relationship, even if they haven't quite reached their destination.


End file.
